


Interlude

by Galysh_Sky



Series: Kimishita is assigned a Guard Dog, unfortunately he doesn't like dogs [2]
Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Bodyguard! Ooshiba, Established Relationship, Gen, Journalist! Tsukamoto, Kimishita has a heart, Ooshiba has a brain, Probationary Bodyguard! Kazama, Probationary Bodyguard! Nakajin, Random OCs - Freeform, Seiseki Protective Services Agency! AU, Sporadic Updates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 06:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galysh_Sky/pseuds/Galysh_Sky
Summary: 3 years in, Kimishita and Ooshiba have settled into a routine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of an ongoing AU, where some members of Seiseki Soccer Team work as bodyguards.  
> Unbetad, all mistakes are my own.

July 29th, 2016

Kimishita was exhausted, the kind of bone numbing tiredness that came after several days of running difficult house calls out of state. He sighed, and reached up a hand to rub his eyes, trying to push back the drop of his lids with his fingertips. Across the row from him, Kiichi was seated, remarkably still and blissfully silent. He was leaning his head on a large hand, but his eyes were scanning about every few minutes. 

“Should have taken that nap, like I told you too. “ 

So much for being silent. Kimishita glared, and Kiichi smirked right back. “Not all of us can afford to sleep on the job,” Kimishita said. 

“Overtime ain't on the job,” Kiichi replied, his eyes did another circuit of the cabin, before they settled back on Kimishita.

“Shut up, work is work,” was all Kimishita’s tired brain was able to come up with. He slumped a little in his seat, stretching his legs out as far as the space allowed and if they bumped up against Kiichi’s a bit, the man didn't mention it. Silence returned as Kimishita stared at the darkening landscape. Eventually the rolling hills gave way to conglomerations of shack like huts and then to bright lights and tall masses of the cityscape. The train shuddered as it slowed, losing altitude. It wasn't long after that they pulled into the train station. 

Kimishita watched as passengers rose, grabbed their bags and disappeared from his view. Automatically, he scanned for defects, anything that would give away the use of prosthetic, a limp here, an awkward twist there. The system buzzed, as the train pulled away from the station. He pulled out his phone, and flicked on the data to check for updates. A new email popped up almost immediately. Kimishita tapped it and groaned a few moments later. He felt Kiichi’s eyes settle on him instantly. The email was from one of his client’s mother, it demanded an immediate consultation.

“Atsuko’s having difficulty with her leg,” He said aloud. Kiichi sighed but voiced no complaints, instead pulling out his own phone to re-arrange their pickup location. Kimishita replied to the email and leaned back in his chair, avoiding taking a nap was no longer an option, especially if he was going to be working in a few short hours. 

“...Shita...Ke...Up. Wake up.”

Kimishita blinked, squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, peering around blearily. His vision was fuzzy, distorted, it wasn’t due to sleepiness. A large hand descended onto his face, when it pulled away clarity returned to his vision. Kimishita adjusted his glasses, and straightened up massaging the back of his neck. “How long…?”

“52 minutes,” Kiichi answered, “we’ll be pulling into the station in a few minutes.” 

Kimishita nodded, he ran a hand through his hair, slid his feet into his shoes and pulled out his phone. Atsuko’s mother had replied, sending a list of symptoms that did nothing to improve his mood. 

“How bad?” Kiichi asked. 

“Category three pains, she’s developing a fever, and is complaining about constant cold. Are you okay to drive?” 

Kiichi waved off his question with his usual smug grin, and made a quip about keeping regular sleeping hours which Kimishita elected to ignore. The train came to a halt and Kimishita joined the few remaining passengers in gathering their luggage and exiting. He heaved his duffel over his shoulder and shoved his tool bag at Kiichi when the latter made grabby hands. The answering ‘oof’ brought a satisfied smile to Kimishita’s face. The car was waiting for them in all of its sleek dark beauty. Kimishita walked around it twice, nodding his head in approval at the repair work done. “Looks almost as if someone never drove it into a mud hole,” he said and his smirk blossomed when Kiichi just growled in reply. The driver’s window rolled down and Kimishita was too tired to be surprised when Usui’s smiling face greeted him. He climbed into the passenger’s seat without protest, shoving his bag into the rear. 

“What are you doing here, Chief? I said I was okay to drive,” Kiichi said as he clambered into the back seat. He kicked the bags to the ground and leaned forwards, lower lip jutting out. 

“Put your seat-belt on,” Usui said, and peeled out. 

“Directions?’ He asked a few moments later. Kimishita leaned his head against the window and allowed his eyes to close while Kiichi rattled off a list of street names. When next words filtered into his brain, they belonged to an entirely different conversation. 

“...Did you get?” Usui was asking, Kiichi responded with a noisy sigh. “Ooshiba.” Kimishita opened his eyes a tad, wishing he could see Kiichi’s face in the rearview mirror.

“Not enough,” Kiichi eventually replied, his voice taking that serious tone Kimishita disliked. “But, I at least got some. This moron got none.” 

Usui hummed and changed the subject. Kimishita let himself fall away. He woke up when they were pulling into the driveway. When Atsuko’s mother met them on the porch step with sweaty hands and a pale face, Kimishita settled in for the long run. He left Usui on the doorstep and headed inside with Kiichi tagging along behind. Atsuko was a mess. A sweaty pile of limbs with teary eyes and pouty lips. Kimishita went to town.

The sun had begun to send pale fingers in through the window when Kimishita stepped back and removed his glasses. Atsuko was sleeping peacefully, her prosthetic re-calibrated and no longer fighting it out with her immune system. He took a few stumbling steps back, and sensed more than heard Kiichi come up beside him. 

“Go talk to the mother, I’ll clean up,” he said. Kimishita nodded and left the room. Usui and Atsuko’s mother were seated in the living room, talking quietly. The women’s eyes filled with tears when she spotted him and she hastily stood up. 

“She’ll be all right,” Kimishita said. After that everything became blurry, he barely remembered climbing in or out of the car, even less so being bundled into the apartment by Kiichi and finally, finally reuniting with his bed. 

***

Kazama was like the sun. Flashy, bright almost to the point of being blinding and so very kind. Perhaps a little too kind.

“K-Kazama!” Tsukamoto yelled, peeking over the top of the table. “I don’t think that’s what they meant!” Kazama’s laugh drifted back to him as Tsukamoto hastily ducked back down again. He winced when he heard the coffee mug shatter against the wood. Tsukamoto sighed and crouched lower, bringing his notebook up to shield his head. “What should I do?” He flinched at a series of loud bangs, then the sound of something else shattering against a previously clean floor. He scooted over to the edge and looked around but retreated hastily when Kazama yelled at him to stay down. There was a yelp, a thud and then silence. 

“Kiichiman, what are you doing here?” 

Tsukamoto peered around the table end again, and when he saw Kazama seated on one of the aggressors he stood up and made his way over. Kazama finished hogtying the perp and moved on to the next one who was being held down by a large boot. A large boot that belonged to a tall man, who was looking around with a frown. “What the fuck, brat?” Ooshiba said, he stepped back when Kazama came over and glared at him. “You’re not even cleared yet from the last time.” 

Tsukamoto also looked around, the coffee shop wasn’t as trashed as he thought it’d be. There was glass on the floor, but it looked like none of the windows or chairs had been broken. This time. Tsukamoto sighed and picked his way over to the counter. Natalia glowered at him. 

“This is the third time this month, Mister I-don’t-need-a-bodyguard,” Natalia said. 

“I’m sorry,” Tsukamoto offered, with a helpless sort of shrug. “I’m really sorry. Please bill it…”

“To the agency?” The barista completed and sighed. “The job was easy, they said. The job was entertaining, they said. It pays well, they said. What they didn’t say was that you’ll be expected to act as security for the band of hooligans that work upstairs.” She huffed, ran a hand through her hair and looked around at the mess. “Well? What are you standing around for? Get a broom and start cleaning!” 

“Ah! I’m sorry! Yes ma’am!” Tsukamoto jumped and turned away, narrowly avoiding Ooshiba who’d stepped up to order a large black roast. He fetched two brooms from the cabinet, and carried them over to Kazama who was nursing a bruised fist and talking to the cops. Tsukamoto started sweeping up the nearest pile of mug shards, listening with one ear to the conversation. The guys who’d come after him were apparently affiliated with the drug case he’d been looking into. Ooshiba made his way over, holding two large travelling cups and yawning widely enough to show off his molars. 

“Ah, Kiichiman!” Kazama broke away from his conversation. “Captain said there’s a meeting this afternoon, at 15h00.” 

“Thanks, brat,” Ooshiba said, he looked around and added, “now get to cleaning.” He nudged the door open with his hip and walked out. Tsukamoto went back to sweeping, occasionally stopping to scribble down a thought he had. When Natalia had deemed the coffee shop clean enough, he followed Kazama upstairs to his office and seated himself at the too large desk. The hours passed by in a mixture of words, quotes, and sometimes numbers as Tsukamoto worked on his latest journal entry. 

Before he realized it, his stomach was grumbling and Kazama was grinning the sort of smile he got at the thought of food. At this hour, the cafeteria was just beginning to fill up. Tsukamoto collected their lunch from the fridge and joined Nakajin at a side table. The other probie greeted them with a stressed-out smile before returning to his burrito. 

“Kazama?” Tsukamoto asked, waited for his not-yet-cleared-bodyguard to acknowledge him and then looked around before speaking, “Does everyone look a bit tense? I mean, they look a bit, um, grumpy…”

“Oh? Yeah, I guess.” Kazama looked around as well before smirking, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure the Chief will tell us about it in the meeting if it’s important.” Tsukamoto hummed, deciding to take Kazama at his word, but he hoped that it wasn’t anything major all the same.


End file.
